


Retaliation

by MsScratch1313



Series: High Rollers Universe [7]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Blood and Injury, Deanee, F/M, High Rollers AU, I'm back baby!, Violence, and also multi-chapters for the big finale! aka it got long oops, evil!Triple H, no seriously I made him a bastard sorry, now with flashbacks (I'm trying some new things)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-08-19 14:47:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16536656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsScratch1313/pseuds/MsScratch1313
Summary: Dean's down for the count, and it's up to Renee to lay down the law.With her own form of justice, of course.The Authority is going to pay.Long live the Queen.





	1. Down but Not Out

**Author's Note:**

> hello hello! long time no see!  
> apologies, but life came at me _fast_ and I wasn't really ready. I started writing this after the last fic in the series was posted, but it got very long and although I had a lot written, I mainly wrote the beginning and the end. So! in an effort to get me to finish, this final fic (unless I write more one shots) is now in 2 parts!  
> in addition, there's now flashbacks! please let me know if the tenses sound janky at any point, I can fix it to make it flow better  
> annnnd that's all from me! enjoy!
> 
> flashbacks are denoted with _italics_  
>  trigger warnings: some violent flashbacks, injury

“I’m so sorry for the interruption, but it’s urgent,” Corey explained, trying to maintain a neutral expression. His face couldn’t hide his worry from Renee.

 

“It’s fine,” she waved, setting down her cup of tea. “Mr. Bálor and I were just finishing up.”

 

“Please, call me Finn,” a certain dashing Irishman insisted, placing his own cup down. “I won’t take up any more of your time. T’ank you for the tea, Ms. Young. I look forward to our organizations working in harmony in the future.”

 

Renee got up to show Finn out and give her final remarks as Corey hovered nervously.

 

“Now,” she prompted, sitting back into her chair. “What’s this about?”

 

“Roman just called. Dean...there’s no good way to put this,” Corey sighed, rubbing at his knuckles absentmindedly. “Dean’s been shot. He’s stable now, but the Authority got him.”

 

Renee sat back for a moment, trying to process this. Corey wasn't sure whether to be consoling or aggressive, so he patiently waited for Renee to speak first.

 

“Where is he?” Renee asked, finally. There are so many ways she can respond to this, but right now she’s favoring the most immediate thing she can think of doing. _I need to see Dean._

* * *

 

Seeing Dean pale, and bloodied, and hurt...it’s been a while.

 

_“I already told you everything, big guy. Either put your fuckin’ money where your mouth is or let me go, because for once in my goddamn life, I’m telling the **truth**.”_

 

_Hearing her enter, Roman steps back from his victim to turn to her, and Renee can get a good look at the man in the hot seat. He’s bleeding profusely, from a cut above his eyebrow and from his split lip. His nose looks crooked, and one eye is already swelling. This guy must have one hell of a set or one hell of a mouth to get Roman—the level headed, naturally intimidating one—to play piñata with his face._

 

_“Says he didn’t know better. That he’s from out of town. Running from folks back in Cincinnati,” Roman reports, ignoring the vagrant tugging at his restraints to focus entirely on his boss._

 

_“Not my fault they pissed themselves when RICO slammed them,” the seated man chimes in, spitting some blood out to the side, so he can speak clearer. “I’m not an idiot, I got out clean, but to them that’s the sign of a turncoat.”_

 

_“And his attack on one of our boys?” Renee inquires, still addressing questions to Roman._

 

_“Says he didn’t know. Just thought it was a normal bar brawl.” Roman gives a faint shrug in her direction. He’s angry, but his shrug would indicate that he’s angry because the man is right._

 

_“Self defense, big guy. Check the tapes, your boy doesn’t take losses too well. 8-ball scratch and he tried to impale me with the cue.”_

 

_“You fractured his skull with the 12-ball,” Renee notes, finally turning her attention to the squirming man in a bloodied leather jacket. “Knocked him clean out in one hit.”_

 

_“I’m resourceful, doll,” the guy cracks, and Renee reaches out to tug on Roman’s sleeve to stop him from decking the man again. Resourcefulness is a skill the High Rollers need._

 

_“I’m inclined to believe you,” Renee says. Cesaro had pulled the tapes and shown her that what he said was the truth, but she didn’t need to tell him that. “However, you still attacked one of our boys, under my protection, in my territory. He might be a hot-headed idiot, but it is an offense against my family that I can’t overlook.” Before Renee can even suggest a possible penance, the man cuts in with his own,_

 

_“I’d like to offer you my services.”_

 

_“Which are?” Renee drawls, refusing to seem taken aback by the forwardness of their victim._

 

_“Magic and magic tricks,” he says, dramatically, with a wild grin. Roman snorts,_

 

_“Plenty of people doing card tricks on the Strip, jackass.”_

 

_“Oh, I don’t do card tricks,” Dean says, grinning even wider, if possible. He leans over as far as he can with the restraints, looking right at Renee, getting into her face and under her skin and edging close to her heart in the days to come._

 

_“Then what do you do?” Renee plays along, humoring him while clearly aware of his antics._

 

_“Sweetheart, I make people disappear.”_

 

Dean’s...certainly been better, but considering how Roman described finding him, Renee thought the patch job and IV drip were a vast improvement.

 

Dean tried to sit up, and Renee was quick to push him back down with a glare. He gave in, wincing when he collided with the pillows below him, and Renee collapsed into the chair beside the bed.

 

The pallor of her husband is noticeable, and the bandages wrapped tight around his torso are a stark contrast to the usual black tank tops he preferred. He’s conscious, but only just, considering the amount of painkillers and anesthetics they pumped him full of to get through the surgery.

 

“What the hell happened, Dean?” Renee asked, reaching out take his hand. Dean took a moment to just smile at her, happy to just be in her presence, and she squeezes his hand in hers to remind him that she’s there.

 

“Not...not really sure doll. One second I’m on my way to check in on Sami, y’know, the friend from Cinci? The next I’m tasting asphalt. I was close to the border but…not that fucking close,” he sighed.

 

“Is Sami okay?” Renee asked, tracing circles on the back of his hand with her thumb.

 

“Yeah, I told him to run when I saw trouble coming. He’s a fighter, but I’m not having him hurt on my dime.” There was a pause where Dean just looked down at their hands joined together, worrying at his lip. “I’m sorry your hitman’s shit at his job,” he mumbled, guiltily.

 

“Getting jumped by three men is not part of your usual responsibilities,” Renee snorted, shutting Dean’s inevitable self-loathing session down before it could begin. “I’m sorry you were hurt. None of this should have happened, Dean.”

 

“I knew what I signed up for. I been getting beat downs since before I was on payroll. Nothing new to me. It’s just...been a while since I was on the other side.”

 

_Sami’s being held down, the fucker tearing at his grimy black locks. Dean’s clawing at the scuffed up hardwood, dragging himself towards the blurry form of Sami. There’s blood or sweat, maybe both dripping into his eyes, blinding him. God he can barely fuckin’ move, his arms just aren’t responding and god Sami get the_ ** _fuck_** **_up!_**

 

_The bastard pinning Sami howls, leaping back, a switchblade sticking out from between his ribs like a thermometer in a roast turkey. Atta boy Callihan. Atta boy._

 

_A boot slams into his side, and suddenly he’s on his back. Sami screams out something—he can’t tell what, his ears are ringing—but there’s panic and pain and a foot trying to crush his rib cage like an ant on the sidewalk—_

 

“Listen—“ Dean urged, reaching out to grab Renee by the arm. “I don’t want anybody getting hurt because of me being a screwball. You don’t gotta go to war over me. I’m not worth it.”

 

“You’re worth it, Dean. You idiot. I’d go to war with the moon if you took offense to it.”

 

“Well now that you mention it, it’s really hogging the night sky. Better look into that.”

 

_“Dean.”_

 

“Sorry, sorry,” Dean huffed, the air ruffling his bangs.

 

“What I still don’t understand,” Renee began, reaching out to smooth over his wild hair, “Is why even attack you in the first place? Hunter is cocky, but assaulting a Roller in our own territory? Idiocy.”

 

“He thinks he’s got it on lock,” Dean explained, shutting his eyes. “Hunter was talking a big game. Said it was open season on the Rollers. Didn’t sound like the first time he’s done a little demonstration like that.”

 

“Something big must be going down then,” Renee realized. _Shit._

 

Dean hummed in agreement, seemingly halfway asleep.

 

“I’ll take care of this,” Renee promised. She leaned over and gave him a gentle kiss, his eyes fluttering back open to give her a weak smile when she pulls away. “It’s my turn to protect you.” She waited until Dean was back asleep before quietly exiting the room.

 

Roman looked up as she stepped through the door, making his way over to her. For a minute she doesn’t know what to say, focusing on the floor as she tried to get a hold of herself. Strong arms were suddenly around her in a hug she didn’t know she needed, and she sank into Roman’s hold gratefully.

 

It also made her notice Roman’s lack of a jacket. He had removed it because it had been soaked in blood. Dean’s blood. If Roman had been a _minute later—_

 

“Thank you,” Renee said, raising her head to look Roman in the eyes. She hoped he could see how grateful she was.

 

Roman just nodded and pulled her back in close, planting a soft kiss into her hair.

 

When Roman had been all but gift wrapped and handed to her by his family, she was unsure what to make of him.

 

_“So, you’re the sign of good faith the Reigns family was offering?” Renee wonders, looking over her desk at the powerhouse of a man standing before her. “Roman, correct?”_

 

_“Yes, ma’am,” he offers, with a courteous nod._

 

_So went her exchanges with the silent Samoan._

 

_Roman was...cold. In the ‘hardened killer’ sense, but even at ease he remained a living statue. He’d always be hovering somewhere in her peripherals, but he rarely spoke and seemed to be all business, all the time._

 

_“You can sit down, you know.”_

 

_Roman honest to god flinches when she speaks to him, breaking the silence that laid heavy over the room for an hour. He nods absently and settles into a chair, not looking relaxed in the slightest._

 

_She had made him a bodyguard since she wasn’t sure what else to do with him. If what Sika said was true (and Renee had no reason to doubt it) Roman was capable of handing the more dangerous side of their proceedings...but was he comfortable with doing that? Taking someone’s life was no small task, after all._

 

_“You know what? Let’s get out of here,” Renee huffs, gesturing to Roman. “Kitchen, now.”_

 

_Roman trailed along behind her like a lost pup, and she had to order him to sit at the counter._

 

_“Do you like chocolate? Moose tracks? Strawberry?” Renee asks, rummaging through the freezer._

 

_“I’m fine, ma’am,” Roman replies._

 

_“Bullshit,” Renee spits, looking over her shoulder at a genuinely confused Roman. “You can afford to have some ice cream, Reigns.”_

 

_“...chocolate, then.”_

 

_It took another 20 minutes of homemade sundae making and chit chat to get Roman out of his shell, but once he got talking off-the-cuff, Renee found there was no shortage of interesting conversation._

 

_“I know you come from a huge family,” Renee prompts, during a lull in their chat. “But the Rollers are family too. I know this is all new to you, the house, the city, the people. I hope one day you can see us as family too.”_

 

_Years later, Roman couldn’t remember when he ever saw them as anything less._

 

“It’s gonna be okay,” Roman said. “What happens next is your call.”

 

Renee nodded, steeling herself for what’s to come.

 

“Call everyone. We’re taking the Authority out.”

 


	2. Bad Beat Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A King falls, a Queen rises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy, sorry this took a while! Writing and college are hard. It's done now! Enjoy the finale! (And maybe an epilogue if I get off my ass and write it.)

“We’re all set,” Corey reports. “I spoke to Breeze; he and Dango took dispatch tonight. If anyone in the area reports loud noises, they’ll make sure to delay the cavalry.”

 

“Good,” Renee notes, taking in the scenery. They’d chosen an isolated lot between warehouses in a much less glitzy part of town. Sure, it had certainly seen better days, and had none of the atmosphere of the upscale casinos the Rollers ran, but Renee sort of liked it. Sporadic old flood lights lit the asphalt, albeit dimly, leaving large stretches in shadow. The desert night was dry and warm, yet a breeze stirred the dust and whistled through cracks in the warehouses’ windows. It was quiet. Almost...peaceful.

 

Soon it wouldn’t be.

 

“Ready? Nervous?” Corey asks, checking and rechecking his own hand cannon before storing it back somewhere in his suit jacket.

 

“Be a fool if I wasn’t,” Renee replies. “I have no issue with taking out the trash, but I don’t want any more of us getting hurt.”

 

“Hunter is, well...I wouldn’t say _reasonable_ but he’s certainly not stupid. He’ll know when the battle is won.”

 

“Hopefully. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to slaughter us, but killing us sure won’t impress the father-in-law. At least, that’s what we’re betting on.”

 

“It’s a solid bet. He’s a prideful son of a bitch,” Corey sneers, taking his place by her side. Corey is Renee’s second tonight, and it’s strange not feeling the brick wall that is Roman at her six or the endlessly shifting yet wildly observant form of her husband as her nines.

 

“And here he comes now,” she says, watching as a few expensive imports roll into the lot. The cavalry appears light tonight. _He’s underestimated us. Good._

 

“Young! Always a pleasure,” Trips exclaims, stepping from the expensive sports car Renee knows is just for show. It’s never been a pleasure, and both parties know it.

 

“Let’s get down to business, Hunter,” Renee begins, wanting to skip any and all small talk.

 

“Ready to concede this fast? Surprising, I expected more from you,” Hunter chuckles, in a way that misses all mirth.

 

“Who said anything about conceding?” Renee fires back. _He thinks we’re giving in. The rumors worked. Good._ “I have a bone to pick with you, is all. Maybe several.”

 

“Well, let’s hear it!” Hunters voice booms, throwing his arms wide.

 

“For one, I can’t say I appreciate the way you’ve waltzed in, and slowly corrupted every venture you’ve had a hand in. Even the ones previously set in place by the Authority, prior to your joining.”

 

“It never seemed to bother you much before, Young.”

 

“For a while I was content to let you be. In the spirit of competition and all. A rival, certainly, but not a threat,” Renee pauses to look Hunter in the eyes, and her face changes from calm to spiteful in a split second. “And then you went and shot my _husband._ ”

 

“What?” Hunter barks, whatever master plan he had cooked up screeching to a halt at those words. His confusion is evident and Renee is tempted to laugh.

 

“So, I figure, eye for an eye sounds fair,” Renee explains, shrugging. She’s being mockingly casual so as to refrain from strangling the man on the spot. “Seth?”

 

Hunter turns at the sound of footsteps to watch Seth Rollins melt out of the shadows, one arm locked around Stephanie’s neck and a gun to her head.

 

“Hello Hunter,” Seth says, a cocky grin appearing on his face, as he drags Steph along with him. “I'd say it’s good to see you again, but it's really not.”

 

“Seth,” Hunter breathes, clearly not anticipating his appearance and disbelieving of the position his wife is trapped in. “You wouldn't.”

 

_Seth isn’t one to cry, but he’s barely holding back sobs as a spotless black leather shoe grinds his face into the concrete. The pressure finally lifts but it’s no relief, as he gets dragged up onto his knees by his hair immediately after. His whole body feels like one bruise and he can barely see now, between the blood running down his face and his shattered eyeglasses._

 

_Still, there’s no mistaking the form of the King of Kings standing in front of him. Nor is there mistaking the sledgehammer he wields with ease._

 

_“I’ll give credit where credit is due kid—from what we’ve seen, your little virtual tour of our organization was no small feat,” Hunter remarks, gesturing to the computer hardware covering nearly every surface in the space. “It’s too bad there are stones better left unturned…” he trails off, bringing the sledgehammer off his shoulder to examine it idly. “Still, I’m a businessman, so I’m willing to make a deal with you Seth.”_

 

_“Oh yeah?” Seth lolls, aiming for tough but falling short by having to cough up the blood trickling down his throat._

 

_“I think we have a place for your skills in our little family. The Authority could use another techie; take it or leave it kiddo,” Hunter offers._

 

_“And if I want to leave it?” Seth grits, using up his last ounce of confidence._

 

_“Then we go our separate ways here.” Hunter clearly takes pleasure in the confusion on Seth’s face, the hacker not expecting a seemingly peaceful answer. “But not without leaving you a little parting gift!” The other shoe has dropped, and Seth watches in fear as Hunter walks over to the kennel tucked into a corner, a small furry form visibly bouncing around inside._

 

_“I think,“ Hunter ponders, tapping the hammer’s head against the bars of the cage, “Your little rat here getting brained would be a good one.”_

 

_“Hey come on, that’s just—he’s a rescue man just leave him alone—“ Seth starts to ramble, panicked._

 

_“Of course, this is just to start. You’ll find I’m very generous when it comes to giving gifts, kid. Maybe this week it’s your dog, and next it’ll be one of your little hacker friends. Jimmy, was it?”_

 

_“What? No!” Seth coughs, struggling against the hands forcing him to the floor. “Leave Jacobs alone, he didn’t have anything to do with this—“_

 

_“Or maybe I could send some boys out to see the family. I’m sure Davenport is nice this time of year,” Hunter says with a smirk, and Seth’s blood runs cold._

 

_“No please, don’t hurt them,” Seth pleads. “Kill me for all I care, just don’t hurt them, please.”_

 

_“Then take the offer and we’ll see if your dog makes it through the rest of the day, huh kid?”_

 

“I would,” Seth states, jamming the barrel harder into Stephanie’s temple to illustrate. His smile is replaced by narrowed eyes and thinly veiled anger. “You shouldn't have threatened my dog, _asshole_.”

 

Hunter just looks back and forth between Seth and Renee, in complete disbelief. “How did you—”

 

“If you’d taken the time to actually get to know your staff, Helmsley, you would have realized your limo driver on call was different tonight,” Renee explains, gesturing to Mike, who appeared at roughly the same time Seth did to watch his back, noticeably wearing a chauffeur’s outfit. “Stand down Helmsley.”

 

Hunter hesitates, trying to silently communicate with Stephanie, and Renee sighs impatiently.

 

“Fine, if that wasn't enough incentive…” she trails off, waving one hand in a quick signal. Stephanie gasps out a _“Hunter!”_ in fear. Trips looks down to see a red dot resting steadily over where his heart lies.

 

“Got some new toys from the Bullet Club. Reigns could hit you with a spitball at 500 yards, but with an M24?” Renee huffs and brushes a lock of her hair back into place. “You even _breathe_ wrong Helmsley, and I'll drop you. Now tell your bully boys to back off.”

 

Hunter motions to his men and they slink back towards the limo, not entirely dropping their guard, but it gives a sense of who’s in charge that favors Renee.

 

Then, before she can shout to take the shot, Hunter reaches out and pulls Stephanie into his arms, shoving Seth back a step or two. It would have been touching, if it wasn’t an obvious attempt at gaining a human shield. Renee refrains from ordering Roman, taking in the new development. For all of the horror the Authority has brought to Vegas, no one is under the impression that it’s Vince’s feeble ass running the show. Hunter was the real villain, through and through.

 

Triple H wraps an arm around Steph’s middle and draws his sidearm, pointing it directly at Renee. She doesn’t hesitate to draw her own gun, aiming it back fearlessly.

 

_“Your stance is terrible, you know."_

 

 _“Well, if_ **_someone_ ** _had let me change before he dragged me off to a gun range, my legs wouldn’t be trapped in this constricting skirt.”_

 

_“It’s a cute skirt though. Makes your legs look fantastic.”_

 

_“I am holding a gun, Dean Ambrose.”_

 

Hunter smirks, trying for intimidating. Renee carefully maintains a neutral expression, taking in the new development.

 

“You thought you could bargain with me? Using _Steph?”_ he calls, confident in his play. “The operation is going to me when Vince dies anyway. You think I care about what happens to his precious daughter? No.” Hunter makes a show of tightening his grip around Steph, who is trying to remain calm but Renee can see the hurt and terror in her eyes.

 

“Vince won’t know. Everyone here will back me,” Hunter continues, confident. _“I did all I could dad, I’m so sorry.’_ Hell, the old man will probably just hand over the keys to the kingdom when I come crying to him.”

 

“You’re not getting the kingdom, _Helmsley_ ,” Renee snarls. “In fact, I doubt the McMahons will give you the time of day after Vince sees this little exchange.”

 

“Which he won’t!” Hunter roars, waving the gun in her direction.

 

“Want to place a bet?” Renee taunts, smoothly confident. “Had a chat with Shane yesterday, your brother-in-law? Turns out we both share a distaste for your rather _underhanded_ tactics. So I let him in on the plan, and had Cesaro and Seth rig up some recording devices earlier.” Renee nods to the rooftops surrounding both gangs, and Hunter looks around, searching for them. “Smile, Hunter, you’re on camera.”

 

“You _bitch_ ,” Trips seethes, obviously caught off guard by this revelation. He looks over to Seth, who has his gun aimed steadily at the couple.

 

“Always a Plan B, right?” Seth says, and Hunter outright _snarls_ at him.

 

“It’s over, Hunter. Shane’s streaming the footage to Vince as we speak. Your name is going to be scratched from the McMahon records for good. I’ll give you one last chance to walk out of here, because unlike your sick fucking self, I don’t take any pleasure in taking a life,” Renee bites.

 

“You think that’ll stop me, Young?” Hunter asks. “The Authority’s success is because of _me._ Vince’s senile ass handing over funds just helped make great what _I started_. What _I slaved over!”_

 

“Oh, the lack of funds won’t stop you, Hunter,” Renee agrees. “But this fucking _will_.”

 

The loud **_bang!_** of the gunshot echoes off the walls of the surrounding warehouses.

 

For a moment nobody moves. Hunter then stumbles back, almost as in slow motion, his gun slipping from his grip. Stephanie goes boneless, collapsing in pain and fear. Hunter sinks to his knees close behind, clutching at his chest where his expensive suit is starting to blossom red.

 

“S-Steph,” Hunter breathes, shaking, Stephanie unable to respond as she blacks out from the shock. Even Trips’ black heart felt _something_ for his wife, evidently.

 

“Eye for an eye, Hunter,” Renee repeats with finality, issuing a silent signal with one look. Hunter blinks up at in awe. Renee standing tall, radiant in her fury is the last thing he sees before Seth’s boot collides with his head. Trips’ skull is stomped into pavement, and he goes out like a light.

 

What few Authority members Hunter did bring are appropriately terrified at seeing their fearless, unstoppable leader fall. The Rollers present ready for a firefight, but the Authority goons turn tail and flee when Corey barks “ _run!”_

 

Renee slowly holsters her handgun, taking in the scene before her. There’s a _thump_ from somewhere behind her and Roman appears, rifle slung across his back.

 

“Good shooting,” he praises, moving in to check on Hunter and Stephanie.

 

“Had a great teacher,” Renee says with a slight smile. Roman hums in reply, picking up Hunter’s gun and reaching out to check pulses.

 

“It’s not a killshot,” he announces, nodding to Stephanie. “The trajectory changed when it went through her, but it’s still superficial. She’s gonna live. Maybe the bastard too.” _Perfect._

 

“Get your _hands_ _off of me,_ ” Hunter growls, eyes fluttering open. Roman merely steps back with a disgusted expression, watching Hunter come around slowly.

 

“Call her an ambulance,” Renee orders, nodding at Stephanie’s unconscious form, as the High Rollers begin to clear out their meeting place.

 

“What about him?” Roman asks, watching Hunter flail weakly, smearing blood on the pavement.

 

Renee takes a moment to contemplate, watching Hunter with a neutral expression.

 

Then she smiles.

 

_Eye for an eye._

 

“This place got a dumpster?”


End file.
